


the gold of you that can't be seen

by Fleetling



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Pendragon Lives (Merlin), Arthur-centric, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Not much tho, Period-Typical Sexism, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), there's a monster battle so a bit of gore ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30015252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleetling/pseuds/Fleetling
Summary: Arthur grins at him, waves his chubby hand. "Father!" he says, because he knows he should be formal with his father. There is no Pa here, no Dad or Da.There's something shiny on his father's head. He points to it. "What's that?""Prince Arthur!" hisses the woman holding him, but his father only chuckles. The woman relaxes, just slightly."It's a crown, my son. One day, you will wear one just like it."Arthur tilts his head, curiously. "What colour is it?" He thinks it's grey, just a shade off of the silver of the swords. It's the same silver-grey as half of the household's shiny jewelry, a not quite true silver. He doesn't think he likes it."It's gold," says his father. "There's a lot of gold here in Camelot, my son."Arthur nods his head, and labels that silver-ish colour gold in his mind.(Or: in a world where you can't see the colour of your soulmate's eyes until you meet them, Arthur can't see gold, and it makes his life as a prince much more difficult.)
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Gaius & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 540





	the gold of you that can't be seen

**Author's Note:**

> all my thanks to ForceGhostPhilosophy and le_bjorn for the beta! i've been told it's not too ooc but if it is let me know and i'll try to correct it

* * *

ONE

* * *

Arthur toddles into his father's throne room, the colours rich around him. He's been learning colours recently. Red, like the walls and the drapings and his father's cloak. Brown, like the dust and the dirt and the peasants' clothes. Silver, like the swords and knives and forks. He's only two and a bit years old, but he thinks he knows them all.

One of his minders told him that each person can't see one colour, and that helps them find their best friend forever. Arthur thinks he'd like to have a friend like that. 

The woman holding him lifts him up so his father can see him clearer. "Hello, Arthur," his father says. 

Arthur grins at him, waves his chubby hand. "Father!" he says, because he knows he should be formal with his father. There is no _Pa_ here, no _Dad_ or _Da_ _._

There's something shiny on his father's head. He points to it. "What's that?"

"Prince Arthur!" hisses the woman holding him, but his father only chuckles. The woman relaxes, just slightly. 

"It's a crown, my son. One day, you will wear one just like it."

Arthur tilts his head, curiously. "What colour is it?" He thinks it's grey, just a shade off of the silver of the swords. It's the same silver-grey as half of the household's shiny jewelry, a not quite true silver. He doesn't think he likes it.

"It's gold," says his father. "There's a lot of gold here in Camelot, my son."

Arthur nods his head, and labels that silver-ish colour _gold_ in his mind. 

* * *

Three days later, he finds a tin plate in the dust of the courtyard, and runs with it up to his minder. "I found something gold!" he shrieks. 

She frowns, and takes it from his hands. "Prince Arthur," she says, forehead crinkling in an interesting pattern, "this isn't gold. It's just grey. Tin."

Arthur frowns, but then one of the knight's sons yells, and his attention is diverted over to playing a game of knights-and-dragons. 

* * *

TWO

* * *

When Arthur's ten, he receives his first proper sword. He holds it carefully for the entire day, awed at the shine of the steel, at the silver gleam of it. There's a ruby affixed in the pommel, and a darker piece of silver set in near where his hands sit. 

One of the knight's sons sighs enviously over it. "You've even got _gold_ in yours!" he mutters, and then strides away, his own wooden practice sword hanging pathetically from his belt. Arthur scoffs, and lifts his head high. He's got a sword, and it even has gold in it. 

Even if he can't see the appeal of the gold, he knows it's important. People like it. People want it. 

"Hey!" says one of the older boys. "Can I look at your sword?"

Arthur frowns. It's _his_ sword. 

"I won't touch it," the boy says. He's older than Arthur by a few years, but Arthur knows the boy has to do anything he says. If he hurts Arthur, he'll be in big trouble, because Arthur is the prince. 

"Of course," he says, magnanimously. He's being nice. If he said no, the boy would have to accept that.

The boy comes over, bringing a few of his friends with him. They're all taller than Arthur by miles, and Arthur doesn't like it. He does like having people around him, though. 

"That gold is really something," the boy says. 

Arthur scoffs. "Of course it is. It's my sword."

The boy laughs. "Prince Arthur's sword," he says, but it sounds more mocking than anything else. Arthur doesn't like it. He leaves. He hears the boy laughing behind him. 

"They're just jealous," Gaius says to him, later. Arthur turns this over in his head. To have something that is wanted means to be hated, at least somewhat. 

He wishes he could at least see what was so good about the colour they all seem to covet. 

* * *

THREE

* * *

When Arthur is twelve, Gaius pulls him out of training and sits him down in his office. 

"Prince Arthur," he says, as the young prince fidgets. "What do you know about soulmates?"

Arthur doesn't scrunch his nose up, because it's not dignified, and he will be a dignified young prince. "They're someone you love lots and spend all your time with," he says. 

Gaius nods. "Soulmate magic is the only acceptable magic. A soulmate is the person who is the perfect match to you. If you are one side of a coin, then they are the other. You will fit together perfectly. They are said to be the person it is easiest for you to fall in love with."

Arthur doesn't make a face. He _doesn't._ "Kissing and all that?"

Gaius looks like he's trying not to laugh, and Arthur tries not to feel like a child. "Yes, Prince Arthur. They are not the only person you could love, though. It is not uncommon to go your whole life without finding your soulmate. It is also common to marry someone other than them, particularly for political reasons."

Arthur nods. He knows he has a duty to his land, to his Camelot. It is the price of all the gold around him. He is young, but he knows he understands. If he does well, his father praises him. If he does his duty, his people will praise him. It is a transaction, a deal. 

"How do you know who they are, though?" he asks, knowing it probably won't matter for him. 

Something like surprise flickers across Gaius' face. "There is one colour that for you, looks like grey, but other people see normally. That is the colour of your soulmate's eyes. When you see their eyes, you will be able to see that colour."

Arthur frowns. "I can't see-"

"Hush!" Gaius says. "You don't share it with others."

Arthur nods. "So my soulmate can't see blue," he says. 

Gaius looks relieved. "Yes, my prince."

Arthur frowns. That mustn't be fun. The sky is beautiful, most days, blue and stunning, as are lakes and sapphires and noblewomen's dresses. He hates to know that someone who is destined to be his perfect fit is missing out on so many lovely things. 

He wonders if gold is as wonderful as blue, if he is missing out on as many things as his soulmate is, but is completely unaware. He doesn't like that. He's never liked missing out. "I wish I could see all the colours," he says. 

"One day, Prince Arthur," Gaius says. 

* * *

The next day, a new knight joins the court. "What's so special about his sword?" Arthur asks the knight nearest him, as everyone in sight is _ah_ ing and _ooh_ ing over it. 

The knight turns a puzzled look in his direction. "It looks like it's made of pure gold, Prince Arthur."

Arthur frowns. Ugh. Of course. 

When Arthur can finally see the colour, he's going to have an entire set of armour made out of it. It better make all this worth it.

* * *

FOUR

* * *

When Arthur is seventeen, he meets the bane of his life. _Merlin._

He knocks the boy onto his back, and he just _laughs_ , looking up at the sky. "It sure is beautiful," he breathes, like he's never seen it before - what a simpleton - before launching himself to his feet and returning to berating Arthur. 

And then he's Arthur's manservant, and Arthur knows his life is about to get so much worse. Merlin always has to have the last word, and Arthur can never let him. Merlin always has to be late, always has to be disrupting all the things Arthur has known to be true. 

He is a challenge. He is, perhaps, the most challenging thing in Camelot other than Arthur's growing doubts about his father's beliefs. Arthur _hates_ it, hates him. 

Most of all, he hates how Merlin doesn't do things properly. Instead of picking out the metal pieces and jewelry for Arthur to wear, he just shoves the boxes in Arthur's direction, and then laughs at his choices. 

"Gold and silver together, my lord?" he says, in the way that means he's mocking. "Is that the newest fashion? Just shove as much wealth as you can on your fat sausage fingers?"

Arthur scowls at him. He pulls all the rings off, yanks the metal broach from the tie of his cloak. It's not his fault silver and gold look so similar to him. It's his fucking _soulmate's_ fault. Who even has gold eyes, anyway? Arseholes, that's who. "You pick then, if you know so much about fashion. What are you, a girl?"

Merlin snorts, eyeing Arthur's _tasteful_ red cloak. "We all know I'm not the girl here," he says under his breath, like that's supposed to mean something. 

"What did you say?" Arthur demands, despite having heard quite well. 

"I said 'I know there were some pearls here,'" Merlin says, because his mind is as sharp as Arthur's sword, and one day Arthur _will_ gut him. 

"You're thinking of Morgana's jewelry box," Arthur tells him. 

"Oh, did you steal them from her?"

"Of course not!" Arthur splutters. "I'm a prince! I don't steal things! And I don't own any pearls!"

"Uhuh," Merlin says. One day, Arthur is going to split him vertically, from ugly mop of hair to ridiculous waist, and he's going to _enjoy_ it. 

And then he's going to be without a semi-competent manservant for a while. So. Not today. 

* * *

FIVE

* * *

Camelot is plagued. There's no water, and all the crops have rotted. Arthur knows it's magic. 

And so, he's in the library.

Researching. 

There's a first time for everything, he thinks wryly, and then scowls, because now there's a Merlin in his head. 

There isn't even a Merlin in person for him to yell at, either, because he'd shouted something about needing to talk to Gaius and then run off. 

Useless manservant. Arthur hates how much he doesn't hate him. 

There are a few books in the library that have escaped the purge of magic sheerly because they are purely educational, not instructional. "A guide to recognising sorcery," is the name of the tome in front of him. 

He flips through another few dusty pages, and then something catches his attention. There's a drawing of a woman, hands raised, eyes grey. He reads the page.

 _A sorceress' eyes turn gold as she performs an act of Magic_ , the page reads. 

Arthur scowls and reads it again. 

And then again.

And then he slams the book shut and leaves the room.

* * *

He goes back a few hours later, of course, to glare at the page once more. He tears it out of the book with possibly a little more force than required and takes it to Gaius. Merlin is nowhere to be seen. He's probably slacking off. 

"Is this true?" Arthur demands.

Gaius picks up the page and reads it. His eyebrows meet his hairline. "I believe so, my prince," he says. 

Arthur strongly feels the urge to go and hack up some training dummies, and maybe a few knights if they aren't strong enough. "What the fuck," he says, and then leaves Gaius' room. 

He is _not_ dealing with this now. 

* * *

Arthur can't sleep that night, wondering what gold is, wondering what golden eyes look like. 

He has to deal with this. 

His soulmate is a magic user. 

Arthur's _soulmate,_ his perfect match, is a _magic user_. 

They might even be the same magic user who has cursed Camelot, which would be just his luck. 

He curses into his pillow, and then turns on his side. He'll deal with this later. If need be, he is capable of killing his soulmate.

He thinks he is, anyway. He thinks he could see grey eyes turn gold and know magic, and he thinks he could slide his steel sword into their chest and know, for the first time, the colour of the gold on its hilt. 

Arthur thinks he could do it. He has been told magic is bad for his entire life. He also remembers wanting someone who was his equal and his partner in all things for as long as he has been alive. 

He now knows that isn't possible. Those two things cannot exist together. Magic is bad, and therefore Arthur will not have a living soulmate. 

* * *

PLUS ONE

* * *

Arthur's older now, and wiser. He's also the king, and a lot lonelier and more pained. He's lost Morgana, although he has won his kingdom and the war. 

He's king now, which means he shouldn't be going on random quests. But he's bored, and the case had been reported, and he'd wanted to go, and so he had. He has his knights with him, and Merlin, because Merlin has wormed his way into Arthur's heart and there's no getting rid of him. Some days, Arthur even remembers to hate Merlin for it. 

He hasn't found his soulmate yet, though not for lack of searching. He's also not sure that magic's so bad. Morgana, he's realised, wasn't bad until she thought she had no other option. 

He hasn't found his soulmate, and he hasn't married. He'd thought he might, with Gwen, but she'd whispered one day that she was able to see brown, now, and the trees and the earth and her soulmate's eyes were beautiful, and he'd let her go. 

He shakes his head and dismisses his thoughts, and then urges his horse faster. The village is closer than an hour away, and he wants to get there fast enough to stop it from being entirely destroyed. 

He's just pulled away from the rest of the group when the fire gushes up in front of him. His horse rears away, and he slips from the saddle. 

It's been so long since he last fought properly, he realises. Months, if not a year in full. 

His knights charge up at his back, and together they face down the monster. It's mostly serpent shaped, light bumps where four legs would be, and vestigial wings. It looks more like an earthworm than a dragon, and he resists the urge to snort. It's grey, which doesn't take away from the illusion of a massive fucking earthworm. 

And then it opens its circular mouth and spits out flame. 

Arthur ducks, Merlin shrieks something unintelligible, and then mutters "of course it's not close enough to a dragon for that to work," which is the stupidest thing Arthur's ever heard, but Merlin says a lot of stupid things. Arthur's gotten very good at ignoring the stupid things Merlin says, most of them gibberish. 

There's another burst of flame, and he rolls to the side. One of the knights screams, and he winces in sympathy. Burns are awful to deal with, even after they've healed. 

All the horses have spooked, even Merlin's, so they're stranded. At least half of his knights have their armour melted in places, the chainmail hissing and melting itself unlinked and collapsing, holes forming in the previously-impervious mesh. 

Arthur shouts, and races at the worm-thing with his sword. He swings at it, deft and sharp, and his blade - glances off. What the fuck. 

"What is this thing made of?" he shouts. 

"Gold, perhaps?" Gwaine shouts back, telling him the worm monster is actually gold-coloured, not grey. Just his luck. 

"Gold is a soft metal," Merlin says, because he's a smart-arse with no sense of timing. 

"I know!" Arthur yells at him. "Now get away from the fight!"

Merlin glances around him, blue eyes intentionally wide and guileless. "Where, my liege?" he asks, almost pouting. 

Arthur wants to shake him. The surrounding countryside is on fire. _Where?_ indeed. "Just stay away!" he shouts, and that's when the worm-thing decides to reveal it has rows of teeth, actually, and lunge for him. 

The teeth clamp down on his sword arm, and he feels them puncture the armour and then his skin. His arm, he thinks a little wildly, is currently inside a worm. 

Today is an awful day. It's decided now. Of the many things that have tried to eat Arthur, a giant possibly-metallic worm _thing_ is new.

He starts moving his sword, trying to do some internal damage despite how it flexes his arm around the teeth, destroying more tissue. And then, of all things, the worm's weird nostril things start glowing. 

Arthur has spent enough quality time with this worm to know what that means. That means fire comes soon.

Out of its mouth.

Where Arthur currently is. 

"Arthur!" Merlin shouts, and Arthur curses internally. He'll have an instant in which the worm opens its mouth to breath fire in which he might be able to dive for the ground. Most of his knights are on the ground, armour melted to skin in places. 

It's not looking good. 

"Please don't kill me on the spot," Merlin says, the words spat out in a rush, one stream of sound. He's right next to Arthur, somehow. Arthur has barely enough time to wonder what in Camelot he means and turn to face him before he starts chanting. 

Merlin lifts his hands, the gibberish a never ending stream of noise from his mouth. His eyes are closed.

"Move back, Merlin!" Arthur shouts, but the idiot doesn't. The worm opens its mouth, Arthur drops to the dirt, and there's a bright flash of light and a crack of thunder. 

The worm writhes, a peculiar smell rising, somewhere between charred flesh and burning metal. 

There's another strike of lightning, bright and unexpected. The skies are clear. 

Arthur turns to Merlin just as he opens his eyes. His eyes are -

His eyes are gold, because he's a magic user, and he's Arthur's soulmate. 

There's a third flash of lightning, and the worm crashes into the dirk, mouth hanging open and dark. It's not even writhing. It's dead, and Merlin killed it, because Merlin is, apparently, a magic user and _Arthur's soulmate._

"I'm going to kill you," Arthur says, rising unsteadily to his feet, sword arm limp by his side. "No, that's not bad enough. Prison for life? The stocks for a few hours every day?"

"Arthur-" Gwaine starts, and Arthur turns to glare at him. He shuts up.

"Arthur-" Merlin says, and Arthur laughs, high and hysterical. 

"I'm a king, Merlin," he says. 

Merlin nods. This is not news. This is the furthest thing from news. 

He doesn't get it. 

"I'm a _king_ ," Arthur emphasises. "And I have spent my _entire life_ struggling to tell the difference between gold and silver! Because I can't see gold! Because, apparently, my soulmate only sometimes has gold eyes and was _stupid_ enough to hide them from me for at least a decade."

Merlin's beautiful gold eyes are gone, replaced by his ordinary blue. They're very, very wide. Then, rapidly, they return to their normal size. He opens his mouth, and Arthur _knows_ he's going to say something stupid or smart-arse, and Arthur cannot deal with that right now, so he steps forwards and kisses him. 

Merlin makes a muffled sound beneath his lips, but Arthur just drops his sword and wraps his arms around him, ignoring the ache and the pull in the wound. "You idiot," he says, once he pulls away. "You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me."

Merlin scoffs. "I thought you knew and were ignoring it. Or that it was one-sided. What kind of idiot can't see gold? I expected blue, if anything."

Arthur growls and kisses him again, which proves to be the most effective way of keeping Merlin quiet that he's found thus far. He'll remember that. 

Gwaine wolf whistles, and then, a few minutes later, another knight clears his throat. "Uh. Should we head back to Camelot?" he suggests, tentatively. 

Arthur steps away. "We are talking about this," he tells Merlin, who just nods. Excellent; he's still quiet. 

And then Arthur realises that the horses have long since spooked, and his mood plummets. He sighs. 

"I could -?" Merlin says, and it takes Arthur a second to catch on.

"Yes," he says. "Use your magic; get us home."

Merlin snaps his fingers, and the world bends beneath Arthur, and then suddenly he's back at Camelot, feeling vaguely nauseous. The youngest knight is doubled over retching, and their horses are milling around beside them, looking very confused. 

"How powerful are you, exactly?" Arthur asks. 

Merlin winces. "I… don't know," he says.

"You don't know," Arthur repeats, flatly. "How do you not know, idiot?"

"I've never found a spell I couldn't eventually pull off," Merlin says, and Arthur has to pause in his strides into Camelot to shake his head. 

"How -" he mutters, and then he stops. Looks up at the ceiling, around at the walls. "There's so much gold," he says, too full of awe to be ashamed of his tone of voice. "It's beautiful."

He glances back at Merlin, thinks _he's beautiful too_ , and then realises that he's going to have to convince his entire council to not only repeal the few remaining laws against magic, but also that they need a court sorcerer. Fun. "Ugh," he says, and then takes Merlin's bird bones wrist in his hand and tugs him along to his chambers. 

**Author's Note:**

> btw i never actually watched all of merlin


End file.
